100 books like Wealth Woman

Pierre Berton’s Klondike, published in 1958, was the first comprehensive account of the Klondike gold rush and quickly became a bestseller. But look for the 1972 revised edition, which added a lengthy preface, a listing of major characters (there are a lot to keep track of!), more maps, and an expanded main text. Not only is Berton a master storyteller, but he was also intimately acquainted with this history. Born in 1920, he was the son of a Klondike stampeder and a teacher who arrived in Dawson as things were settling down. Berton spent his early years growing up amidst the vestiges of the gold rush and maintained a strong connection to the north all his life.

This impeccably researched book by Yukon historian Michael Gates provides the backstory to the 1896 discovery that kicked off the Klondike gold rush. Small numbers of gold-seekers began prowling the creeks of Alaska and the Yukon as early as 1873 and their stories are every bit as fascinating as the stories of those who followed. These men, and the occasional woman, were a particularly hardy lot who put themselves through incredible hardship in hopes of finding a fortune. They were perfectly positioned to beat the rush to the Klondike goldfields and some of them did clean up. But regardless of whether they struck it rich, all of these risk-takers and dreamers helped set the stage for the big event.

This is the go-to book to learn about the Klondike Gold Rush. Tappan Adney was a journalist sent by a magazine to chronicle what was going on, and he did a good job. In 1897, he took a steamship to Skagway, then made the long trek into Canada over Chilkoot Pass, to Dawson, and on to the Klondike River. Because Adney was a trained newswriter, it doesn’t have quite the warmth of a personal diary, but there’s all kinds of good stuff. Especially, detailed descriptions of the hard journey on foot, daily disillusionment of the average stampeder, descriptions of gold mining techniques, Yukon era saloons, claim jump squabbles, and the common struggle for a decent meal, when supplies have run low.

Although photography was in its infancy at the time of the Klondike gold rush, the event’s high-profile nature attracted many intrepid photographers, both amateurs and professionals. Graham Wilson’s carefully curated collection of 125 historical photos showcases their talents and offers a unique glimpse into the past. These are pictures to savor, as you study the faces, take in the landscapes and scrutinize the details of everything from clothing to mining equipment.

I’m recommending this book because I think it’s the best book ever written about the Klondike Gold Rush. During his numerous adventures, the main character, George Mitchell, finds something far more valuable than gold. The book was so little known that I felt obliged to get it back into print as well as write an introduction to the reissue.

For five months, the wildlife biologist and his filmmaker wife, on skis and on foot, shadowed the Porcupine caribou herd’s spring migration from boreal forest wintering grounds to their nursery on Alaska’s tussock-studded tundra—“North America’s Serengeti,” or, to the Gwich’in Indians, who depend on the animals for subsistence and spiritual nourishment, “The Place Where Life Begins.”

The couple’s journey impresses me as a long-distance feat, and with its poetic rendering, but foremost with its conservation angle. They raised awareness of fossil fuel extraction that threatens lifeways, both the Gwich’in’s and the caribou’s; after their trip, they ventured to Washington D.C. to lobby for the wildlife refuge’s protection.

The book’s highlight for me is the couple tentbound, whispering—out of consideration—amidst thousands of birthing caribou cows.

Author Jennifer Duncan an adventurous person herself, went to the Yukon a hundred years after the Klondike Gold Rush and lived in Dawson City, now a picturesque historical heritage town where the saloons and dancehalls replay the raucous social times of the 1890s gold rush.

Her book gives a real feel for the place and the remarkable women who grappled their way across the continent and north to the land of the midnight sun. They turned themselves into smart businesswomen and made fortunes without digging for gold.

A diligent researcher, Duncan casts a new light on who first discovered gold in the Klondike. Not the American Carmack but his Indigenous wife, Kate who let him take the credit for the discovery. He later denied her as his wife and abandoned her.   

Robert Service became a bank clerk in the Klondike Gold Rush. But that was to support his life as a poet.

At one time he lived and wrote in a log cabin now standing across the road from the house in Dawson City where Pierre Berton grew up. Pierre Berton was born long after Robert Service, but the poems of Robert Service have been popular for generations.

They portray the life and characters of the Yukon around the time of the gold rush. Pierre Berton gave many public performances reciting the whole of Service’s The Shooting of Dan McGrew. No one could do it better. I joined others rising to our feet in applause and whistles.

There is a Malamute Saloon named after a line in that famous poem which I took my Yukon Sally to in Dawson City. My photo of that brings tears to my eyes.    

I did a lot of research before writing my book. I’ve always written realistic fiction inspired by real people and places. But this novel was driven by a dog, my first Alaskan Malamute whom I called Yukon Sally.

I’ve always had a dog, some kind of Collie from a farm or an animal shelter. After my youngest daughter flew off to university I thought we could spring for a purebred and chose a Malamute because they come from Arctic wolves.

Intrigued by Yukon’s wolf-like traits I researched wolves then the Malamute breed and took Yukon Sally to the Yukon to study sled dogs and the background of the Klondike Gold Rush which was the glory days of the Malamute sled dogs.

While there, I discovered Bob Hayes’ book and learned some more important facts about wolves. They do not need to be culled. Read it and see why. 

Your marriage is over and your child is heading off to university. What to do? Why, you get in your car and drive nearly 6,000 km from Toronto to the Yukon. This lyrical, enchanting memoir of a mid-life journey tugs at the soul. What strikes me the most about it is the courage of its author to go it alone.